


Halloween Hijinks

by S_G_M



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Candy, Fluff, Food, Fun, Gen, Halloween, Pie, ghost - Freeform, light - Freeform, trick-or-treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2524379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_G_M/pseuds/S_G_M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has decided to have a bit of a Halloween celebration, to the mild annoyance of his brother, though they find themselves saddled with a bit of an unexpected guest...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween Hijinks

It was the end of October, the exact end, to be precise.

Sam had thought that it might be fun to celebrate the holiday; some treats, a few scary movies, a bit of booze and even the odd Halloween decoration throughout the place.

Dean didn’t mind it, though he wasn’t overly enthusiastic about it.

He would have much rather have headed to a local watering hole and celebrate in his own way; with loose women and plenty of alcohol.

But, for whatever reason, Sam seemed pretty set on actually doing the whole Halloween thing, with the exception of handing out treats (it’s not as though any kids would ever show up at the bunker trick-or-treating, anyway).

So, Dean would indulge him.

 

The place actually was looking pretty good.

Sam had put up some fake cobwebs, had a smoke machine going, along with some lights and a few other things.

“So, why are we doing this again?”  Dean asked him with a bare hint of annoyance, looking around as Sam put the last cobweb up.

“Why not?”  Sam asked with a shrug.  “We never got to do anything like this when we were kids…  I just thought maybe we could try it once.”  Sam answered honestly, looking at his handiwork and thinking that he’d done a pretty good job.

“Fair enough, I guess.”  Dean stated as his stomach began to growl and heading to grab something from the cupboard, when Sam dashed in front of him.

“Uh, you can’t go in that one.”  Sam told him, looking as though he felt a bit silly.  “I’ve got something in there for later.”

Dean raised his eyebrows.

“What, like a surprise?”  Dean asked in disbelief, shoving his hands into his front pockets.

“Yeah, kinda.”  Sam responded, tucking his shaggy brown hair behind his ears.

Dean sighed.

“Fine, then could you get me bag of chips outta there?”  He asked, and Sam tilted his head.  “Ketchup, if there’s any left.”

“Supper’s in like, an hour.”  Sam reminded him, checking his watch.

“And?”  Dean said, not seeing the problem.

Sam had spent a good deal of the afternoon making dinner, and Dean had known that.

“Seriously, Dean?  I’ve been slaving over supper for the last few hours, and you’re going to just go ahead and ruin your appetite?”  Sam told him chidingly.

Dean frowned, feeling as though he were being treated like a child.

“Okay, fine, I’ll wait.”  He said in annoyance, indulging his brother.

Sam was certainly going all out for this.

 

 

 

A few hours later, Dean noticed Sam setting a few bowls out on the kitchen counter from his spot in the den.

He pretended not to care.

But, despite outward appearances, Dean was actually kind of looking forward to whatever Sam had up his sleeve.

As he watched Dr. Sexy examine a young, busty Latino woman on the television screen, he could swear he felt a little chilly.

“You got a window open, Sammy?”  Dean asked, and Sam replied with a ‘No.’

Dean noticed goose bumps on his arms, and he went to turn up the heat, before pulling on a plaid button down.

As he sat back down on the couch, Dean sniffed the air.

He knew that smell; that wonderful aroma that always made him feel ravenous.

Dean breathed in deeply, closing his eyes.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d smelt homemade pie baking in the oven.

He couldn’t tell what kind it was just yet, but that didn’t matter.

All pie was equal in Dean’s eyes.

Sam glanced into the den, noting the look of serenity on his older brother’s face.

He smiled. 

It was nice to see Dean like that, calm and happy.

Usually, he was…  Quietly sullen and a touch bitter.

Sam hoped that his efforts would help alleviate that for even just a little while.

 

 

It was nearly dinner time, and Dean’s stomach was rumbling as Sam worked away on a pretty remarkable meal.

Over the past year or so, Sam had really been improving his culinary skills, and he had turned out to be notably talented in a kitchen.

At 18:00, Sam called Dean for the evening meal.

There was a lot of selection, though Sam had been careful not to cook too much; still, there would likely be enough left over for the next day’s lunch.

There was roast chicken with lemon and rosemary, mashed pumpkin with parmesan, a few small bowls of steamed vegetables, along with some other delicious foods.

Dean’s mouth watered as he looked at the table in anticipation.

“No wonder you’ve been in here all afternoon.”  Dean remarked with raised brows, obviously impressed with everything Sam had done.  “It looks great, Sammy.”

Sam gave a half-smile and thanked his brother.

 

 

As they ate, there wasn’t an abundant amount of conversation; whenever a meal was especially delicious, neither Winchester spoke very much at all, focusing instead on the food in front of them.

After the main course, Sam stood up and removed the now empty plates, going into the kitchen and returning with a large, decadent pumpkin pie.

Dean’s eyes grew, and he licked his lips unconsciously.

Sam sliced the fresh pie, and placed a decent sized piece on each of their plates.

But, just as Sam had sat back down and they were about to start on their dessert, they felt an icy wintriness come over the room, seeping directly to the very crux of their bones.

Before either of them could react to the sudden change, every last bit of pie began to levitate, and sailed through the air straight out of the dining room.

Dean looked very upset at this; in fact, he wasn’t so much upset that they had an uninvited visitor, as that just as he was finally about to munch some pie, it had been stolen right from under his nose.

He dashed after the pie, Sam following behind, only to watch the front door open, and witness the pie fly off to who knows where.

Dean turned and looked at his brother, incredulity written all over his face as his shoulders slumped.

Sam bit back a grin at the dejected look on his brother’s face.  He didn’t know why, but it was kind of funny.

He cleared his throat, trying to be more serious.  “I would think that you’d be more upset that we’ve got a ghost on our hands, than the fact you missed out on dessert.”  Sam pointed out, slipping his left hand into a front jean pocket.

“Can’t I be upset about both?”  Dean asked, almost pouting.

Sam blinked, barely concealing his amusement.  “Yeah, sure, I guess.”  He replied, his hair being gently tousled by the autumn breeze wafting through, as dry leaves fell to the ground from the branches above them.  “What I want to know is how it even got in…  I mean, we’re pretty well protected in the bunker.”

Dean thought for a moment.

There was a multitude of items in place as a supernatural security system to keep unwanted visitors at bay; that a ghost had gotten in seemed improbable.

“I don’t know, man…”  He stated, going over the entire bunker in his mind, as he turned and began heading back inside.

 

 

After they were back in, Sam and Dean commenced searching everywhere for a break in their security, finding absolutely nothing out of place.

After the detailed inspection, they went into the den.

Despite everything, Dean was still craving pie terribly.

It had been such a very long time since he’d tasted the treat, and coming so close but so far to finally enjoying Sam’s spectacular pumpkin pie, had left Dean very disappointed.

“I’m going out.”  Dean announced, and Sam’s brows knit together.

“Hey, come on, I’ve got things planned.”  Sam complained unhappily.

Dean sighed.  “Look, I’m just going to the store to pick up some pie and six pack; I’ll be back in twenty minutes, okay?”  He asked, though it wasn’t really a question so much as a statement.

Sam looked defeated.  “Fine, you’re going to go anyways.”  He muttered, looking away from his brother and turning on the T.V.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and just left.

 

 

As Dean drove along the road in the increasing darkness, Sam began watching the middle of the classic movie ‘Fright Night’, keeping alert enough to detect anything out of the ordinary.

He had no idea what sort of ghost they might have on their hands, if it returned, which he felt relatively certain that it would.

Nothing did happen in that time frame, and when Dean came back, he sat down with his pie and the beer, along with a plastic jack-o-lantern full to the brim with assorted candies.

“I figured since you wanted to celebrate Halloween so badly, that you might like to have this.”  Dean said, remembering how when they were kids, Sam had always wanted to go trick-or-treating every year, but something had always happened and so neither of them had ever gone trick-or-treating.

Well, except for once. 

It had been the year before Sam had been born; John and Mary Winchester had taken Dean from house to house, collecting all sorts of wonderful treats.

Dean didn’t remember it all that well, but what he did recollect, he did so fondly.

That was part of the reason that he never had much to do with the holiday, ignoring it more than anything.  Just as he did with Christmas.

 It just hurt too much to remember those snippets of the holidays that his mother featured in, back when things were perfect.

Not that he’d ever told anyone about it.

Sam sat up, considering the gift.  “Thanks.”  He replied honestly, also thinking back to childhood.

“It’s nothing.”  Dean replied, looking to the T.V. and cracking open a can of beer, slurping the first few gulps.

“You want to share this with me?”  Sam offered, deciding to dump the contents onto the coffee table in front of them, letting some of his enthusiasm show.

Dean gave a half-grin.  “Sure.”  He answered, as Sam picked through the stash.

Dean had gone and chosen a bunch of random sweets, making sure to add a few of Sam’s favourites along with ones Dean had known that his brother had never tried before.

Dean leaned over, picking out a cocoanut toffee and unwrapping it.

He popped it into his mouth, and as he chewed, he began to regret his choice.

He wondered who would ever want to eat something that tasted that way, and he spat it back into the wrapper with a disgusted look on his face.

“Maybe I’ll just stick with the pie.”  Dean said, taking a swig of beer to rinse the taste from his mouth.

Unfortunately, that made an even worse flavour combination, and Dean’s face squinched up into a massively revolted expression, as Sam burst out laughing.

He apologised through his laughter, and despite his disgust, Dean also began to laugh.

Sam shook his head as his laughter died down, and passed him a packet of candy corn.  “Here, try something you know that you like.”  He suggested, and Dean took the little orange and black plastic sachet.

It had been over a decade since he’d last had candy corn, but he’d liked it well enough back then.

“Can’t be worse than that pathetic excuse for a toffee.”  Dean said, opening the package and eating a couple of pieces.

“Better?”  Sam asked, taking a black cat shaped marshmallow from its clear encasement and biting it in half.

Dean nodded.

“I’ve got some candied apples in the cupboard, along with some vinegar candy and-“  Sam began, but stopped abruptly as Castiel suddenly appeared before them.

“Hello, Dean.”  Castiel greeted his best friend, before turning to the other Winchester.  “Hello, Sam.”  He told him.

“Uh, hey, what’s up?”  Sam asked, wondering what the angel wanted.

“I wanted to visit.”  Castiel explained simply.

It had been a while since he’d seen them last, with being so very busy, and he had missed his friends.

Dean gestured for him to sit down next to them on the couch, as the vampire on the T.V. died dramatically.

Castiel turned to see what was playing on the T.V., and he cocked his head.

He had seen a small amount of television in his past, though it had only been cartoons and pornography.

This was new to him.

“Well, that was violent.”  He remarked tonelessly, as the vampire finally died.

“It’s kind of supposed to be…  It’s a horror film.”  Dean told him, as Castiel sat down on his left.

“I fail to understand how something such as that is entertainment to anyone.”  Castiel stated, as he concentrated on the strange feeling that had enveloped him since entering the bunker.

Something was off…

Castiel looked up to the ceiling, all of his instincts pointing him in that direction.

“Something is not right.”  Castiel told them, sensing what it was.

“What is it?”  Sam asked, watching the angel curiously.

Dean opened the cardboard box the pie was in, and took the pastry out, getting ready to dig in.

As Dean’s fork just pierced the top crust, the pie was abducted as the first one had been.

It had left the bunker even more quickly than the pie before it.

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean swore in aggravation.

“A ghost.”  Castiel answered needlessly, as Dean practically sulked.

“It is very powerful, much stronger than any I have come across in the past.”  He went on, and the brothers exchanged glances.

Sam tucked his hair behind his ears.  “Can you sense where it is now?”  He asked hopefully.

“Yes.”  Castiel answered, his eyes unblinkingly staring past Sam’s shoulder again.

“Well, would you mind taking us to it?”  Sam tried, thinking how appropriate it was for the bunker to become haunted on Halloween.

Castiel stood up.  “I am not certain that she would be appreciative of my doing so.”  He answered.  “I will go alone and see what it is that I can do to help her move on.”

Dean shrugged.  “If you’re sure…  Where’s she hanging out, anyway?”  He asked, thinking that the answer to his question would help them to find the breach.

“On the fifth floor.”  Castiel replied matter-of-factly.

The Winchesters faces turned into expressions of utter confusion.

“There’s no fifth floor, Cas, what are you talking about?”  Dean asked, crossing his arms.

Castiel frowned.  “Of course there is.”  He responded, to which he was greeted with the same confusion.

“We’ve been all over this place; there’s a dungeon, and four above-ground levels, but that’s it.”  Sam told him, thinking that it had been a simple mistake on the angel’s part.

Castiel looked at them both thoughtfully.

“Follow me.”  He told them, and they ascended the stairs.

 

 

The trio reached the fourth floor, where the stairs seemed to end.

While the Winchesters came to a stop on that floor, Castiel began climbing to another floor on invisible steps.

The brothers watched him continue on in surprise, before Castiel realised that they hadn’t followed.

“Why have you stopped?”  He asked them in confusion.

“Uh, maybe if we could actually see where you are going, that would help.”  Sam said to him, and Castiel looked to his feet.

He suddenly realised the problem.

Castiel hadn’t sensed the enchantment that was protecting the fifth floor at first, couldn’t understand the brothers’ bewilderment.

Luckily, he could easily break the charm, and so he did.

Suddenly, the Winchesters were able to see just what Castiel had been talking about; there was indeed a fifth floor, all right.

“I am sorry; I failed to notice the magical defence which had cloaked the fifth floor from your perception.”  Castiel apologised to them.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”  Dean told him, eager to find out just what was on that unexplored floor.

Whatever it was, it must have been something very important, or at least fairly interesting.

And, maybe they’d be able to find out the story behind the previously hidden floor while they were at it.

 

 

Just before Castiel unlocked the oak double doors which opened unto the final floor of the bunker, he told them to stay behind him.

“This ghost could instantaneously kill you both with little to no effort; salt would only annoy her and iron would be completely useless.”  Castiel explained.  “Regardless, I will be able to protect you should I need to, providing that you heed my words.”

Dean didn’t look as though he fully appreciated this.

He and Sam had come up against plenty of badass creatures and lived to tell the tale.

They weren’t exactly useless, and he hated to be treated as though he needed to be protected.

He could defend himself just fine.

Still, he nodded, and Sam agreed.

If this ghost was as powerful as Castiel had said, then it would be something unlike they had ever seen before.

Maybe it was a good thing that Castiel was helping them out on this one.

 

 

They walked in to find hundreds upon thousands of pies neatly stacked along the lengthy corridor, all sorts of brands and types, just piled along the walls.

They were everywhere along the entire level; in the rooms, in the corridors, _everywhere._

It was difficult to see anything else beyond the countless dusty pies.

Evidently, the thieving ghost had been here for a while, going by some of the dates on the boxes.

The earliest one so far was from the late 1900’s.

Of course, that meant that the ghost had been there far longer than the Winchesters.

Why it had waited until now to make its debut downstairs, it was anyone’s guess.

Just as they had reached an entirely bare room, the temperature dropped to near arctic temperatures.

The brothers’ breath came out in hazy puffs, as their skin began to ache.

They heard an excessively soft, feminine voice call out in an angry and defensive tone, though neither Sam nor Dean understood the words.

Castiel replied in the same, ancient language of the ghost’s.

There were quite a few words exchanged, before Castiel understood just what had happened.

For whatever reason, this woman, Else Vangalore, a well-known pie-maker in her time, had been seemingly forgotten by the reapers.

 In the three score years that she had been occupying the fifth floor, all she could recall about her life was pie.  And so, she collected them endlessly.

It was exceedingly rare for reapers to miss a soul, but such occasions did come to pass from time to time.

Castiel silently called for one of the reapers that he knew well, and it was only moments before they appeared.

The reaper took it from there.

 

 

Back downstairs, the group sat on the couch, satisfied that the bunker was now clear of ghost activity.

Sam promised that he’d bake another pie for Dean tomorrow, at which point Castiel instantly disappeared.

He reappeared a few minutes later with a fresh caramel apple pie from a nice bakery in Egypt.

He passed it to Dean, who grinned widely and opened it after thanking Castiel, who smiled.

Castiel regarded the small heap of candy on the coffee table.

“May I?”  He asked, pointing at the pile.

Sam shrugged.  “Sure, go for it.”  He answered, and Castiel began poking through the assortment.

He was fascinated by the shapes, colours, and sheer variety of candy; the packaging alone was very interesting to him.

At last, Castiel picked out a homemade sugar skull, decorated in beautiful colours and designs.

He looked at it with a sense of contentment, before thanking Sam.

As Dean took a bite of excellent pie, he watched Castiel as he tasted the handmade sweet and revelled in the flavour as a child would.

Sam turned on the T.V. again, after grabbing a candied apple, and together they watched an entire monster movie marathon which ran early into the next morning.

 

 

 **←～（o ｀** **▽´ )oΨ**    **Happy Halloween!** **∋** **━━o(** **｀** **∀** **´o** **メ）～→**

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is vaguely similar to another Supernatural story that I did (sorry), but I promised someone I'd write a lighter Halloween piece involving a ghost stealing Dean's pie, and the other story ended up being written instead of this one. 
> 
> ←~∋(｡Ψ▼ｰ▼)∈ So, yeah, this one's for you, Rainbow!


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